A Yellow Sky
by naggeluide
Summary: Midoriya is shaken from his first encounter with Eri and the resultant gaslighting from Sir Nighteye. He seeks out the one person who might understand.


"In the eye of the hurricane there is silence

A yellow sky." - Hurricane, _Hamilton: An American Musical_

* * *

_Please don't go_, she'd said. _Help me_, the hero Deku had heard.

_Don't let him recognize you_, their orders, the smooth-talk gambit of Togata succeeding. _Don't interfere, there's more at stake here_, harsh instructions from Sir Nighteye.

It bothered Izuku that he was already questioning the judgment of a pro hero, trusted by his idol, who possessed the Quirk of foresight to boot. Yet he simply couldn't get Eri's whispered words and defeated demeanor out of his head, hovering now over the soft conversations of late-night commuters and the low rumble of the train car over the rails. The sadness emanating from that poor girl, and what felt like fear as she'd looked at her father (her own _father_. But how could anyone bear to hurt their own young child?)…

Izuku's phone buzzed and he looked at the screen, welcoming the distraction. Reddit notification, he saw. A new trending post in r/FuckEndeavor.

_Fuck Endeavor_, his mind supplied automatically, and then ground to a full stop as neurons fired in horrific directions.

Todoroki.

Izuku knew where he'd felt that overwhelming sadness before, an unspoken cry of desperation...

All of a sudden, the train was not moving anywhere near fast enough.

* * *

Izuku ran all the way from the station to the dorms, but even with half a percent of his Quirk activated to lend himself speed his feet couldn't outrun his thoughts. She'd been frightened, so frightened, but she'd gone back and the villain had said _family drama, it's embarrassing_, and Izuku knew that it was rude to press, that these things were meant to stay behind closed doors in the same way that absent husbands coming home late smelling of liquor and someone else's perfume were. He'd never asked because he _wasn't supposed to_, and all he could think about now was that his friend might not have been safe, might not _be_ safe, and he'd never know because he'd _never asked_.

The door opened on the first knock, which was more of a bang because he still hadn't deactivated his Quirk, and a familiar mismatched visage greeted his own.

Izuku's heart did its level best to leap into his mouth because there were cuts and bruises on that face and on what he could see of pale arms, and unconsciously he felt his body thrum with power as his combat instincts kicked in. "What the hell happened to your face?" he managed to get out, halfway between panting and panicking, still caught in his previous line of thought. "Was it…"

Todoroki scowled but didn't step back from the crackle of green lightning around Izuku's form. "What? Breathe, Midoriya. I can't understand why you ran here to bang down my door at eleven p.m. unless I can hear you talk."

"I… I… " Okay, so maybe running here without full use of his Quirk had been a mistake. "Are you okay? It wasn't … it wasn't him, was it?"

"What? Calm down, I'm fine. You should see the other guy." The last phrase was spoken in a perfect yet unintentional imitation of Present Mic's Canadian English.

Was that… a pop culture reference _and_ a joke? Even if it was the oldest, stalest one in the book? Still Izuku had to make sure because he _hadn't asked Eri _and that was a mistake he never wanted to make again, especially with one of his closest friends.

"Was it… was it…"

"Oh," Todoroki breathed, voice lowering in realization. "No, it wasn't him. It wasn't… Endeavor."

"Oh, good." Izuku felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, and finally drew in an uninhibited breath. "Then I don't want to see the other guy."

"Are you sure? He's right down the hall."

"Wha -" Izuku's brain chose this moment to finally catch up to his body. "Kacchan? You -" And that was pretty funny, come to think about it. He did want to see Bakugou's face, but it could wait until class tomorrow. "Actually, I have something important to ask you about but I'm not sure how to do it."

Todoroki stepped aside in a wordless invite, ushering Izuku into the room. The futon hadn't been rolled out yet, despite the hour, and Izuku could see study materials laid out across the desk as they settled on the tatami floor, Izuku's mouth already going as fast as it possibly could while still articulating enough to be understood.

"I feel like I should be asking permission to even ask this, because I know we're close but this is still something that's really personal and something that we as a society don't address in polite company but that's what heroes are for, right, so that when horrible things happen and no one is around who believes you or can save you that you can find someone, even if it's just an everyday hero like a teacher or a therapist, just someone who's unconditionally on your side and can fight for you -"

"Midoriya. You can ask me anything, you know that."

Normally Todoroki's blunt statements could freeze and re-focus Izuku's ramblings as effectively as his own Quirk, but Izuku was nervous and still full of tension so he didn't feel the full impact of his friend's words.

"Um, yeah, well I just feel really weird and I don't want - so there was this girl, Eri, tonight, on patrol, and she was crying and it was her dad in the alleyway and I know he's supposed to look out for her and all and I don't want to think of parents like … but she grabbed on to me and said _please don't go_, she said … but she didn't say _help me_, so I couldn't … even though I wanted … and then I thought … he was a villain and we couldn't afford to blow our cover but shouldn't a child's safety always come first? And the thing is I've almost convinced myself that she _is_ safe, with him, because he's her dad and Sir Nighteye said we're playing the long game but then I thought of .. well… _you_ and I don't want to put you on the spot and I know it's sensitive but I hope you trust that I won't -"

"I trust you with my life."

Izuku stopped. It was as if he'd run into All Might's embrace; the initial shock from a wall of muscle, but throughout it all a feeling of complete and utter safety. Izuku told himself that Todoroki was smart enough to see where his ramblings were going and would have told him to stop if he really didn't want Izuku to ask, so he steeled himself and spit it out.

"Todoroki… how do I recognize signs of child abuse?"

* * *

The question was like a sucker punch to the gut but Shouto knew that Midoriya would never hurt him so he let himself draw in breath as usual. It was … not what he had been expecting, although if he'd asked himself what he had been expecting when a still-costumed Deku had put a literal dent in his door, it was beyond him. A cheesy love confession à la K-drama perhaps, which was an idea he didn't hate outright aside from the cheesy and drama parts.

The brief distraction helped him almost as much as the now-ingrained trigger-response mechanisms he'd learned. Surprise, that was his main emotion and he named it. Engrained with it, anger, and underlying it all, fear. Shouto acknowledged their existence with his inhale, and moved forward with an exhale. He had the choice to remove himself from this situation, but his mind told him that he wasn't in danger. Midoriya was right there, green galaxy-eyes and freckles, twisting his scarred hand together with the unscarred one in anxious anticipation.

This is a safe place, Shouto told himself, you're safe. Your sister is safe. Your mother is safe. Endeavor can't touch you right now. Inhale, exhale, green eyes filling his field of vision.

Inhale, exhale. Midoriya was awaiting his response.

Shouto couldn't give the one Midoriya wanted right now, so he started small. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay to ask me."

Tension flooded out of Midoriya in a palpable wave of relief. "Oh, good. I was worried … thank you. You don't have to. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I just…"

"You want to help this girl." Of course he did, this was Midoriya. He was a hero at heart, of course he wanted to save everyone. Focus on the girl, Shouto told himself, and even though with anyone else he might have told them to go away and ask someone else, part of him liked the idea of turning Endeavor's own actions against him and using them to help another person for a change.

Midoriya nodded enthusiastically, although he was uncharacteristically silent.

"You don't know if she needs your help, or how to help her, but you suspect."

Another near-violent nod. Silence, ready to listen, giving Shouto the time he needed to collect his own thoughts.

"First of all," Shouto began, slowly. "You should know I have a lot of … complicated emotions around this subject, so my judgement might not be the objective professional advice you want."

"I don't want professional advice right now," Midoriya said, voice small. "I want to understand. I need to know what… what it's like. For her."

There was pain in those wide eyes, and Shouto had to look away. How could he ask his friend to carry even more pain? What had he done to deserve even knowing someone who would so willingly ask for these burdens?

"You _do_ need to talk to a professional," he still insisted. "And neither that person nor I can help you fully understand that girl's experience. It's hers and hers alone, and if she chooses to share it with you that's her prerogative. Every situation is different, and there's no instruction manual on how to help."

Shouto hated the way that Midoriya slumped in defeat against the wall, but rather here than out on the streets. "However. There are things you can look for… certain indicators of physical, psychological, sexual or negligent abuse."

"Shouto…" Midoriya's voice came out so, so small and it's his hero name, nothing Shouto hadn't heard from the smaller boy before but this time it was more intimate than that: a first name. Shouto found that, in that moment, he was incapable of meeting Midoriya's eyes.

"I can only speak to the first two," he pressed on, instead. He could feel some of the horror falling from his friend's body, a cry of relief, and reminded himself that despite all they've experienced, Midoriya is still a very young sixteen. Or perhaps Shouto himself is simply an old fifteen.

"She had bandages on her arms," Midoriya volunteered, a quiet rage adding strength to the words. "Like … like that time last May, training during the heat wave but you wore long sleeves anyway."

Shouto swallowed. It felt like a lifetime ago, so much had changed since then, and he'd thought no one had noticed but… they had. It was good that they had, he could recognize that now. "Yeah," he acknowledged, and took respite in the clinical language he'd come to know. "Unexplained injuries, injuries that don't match the given explanation, fearful reactions to physical contact, or extreme reactions are all warning signs of possible physical abuse."

He glanced at Midoriya and wished he hadn't. Green eyes were already brimming with tears, and the beginnings of his _determined face_ were appearing.

"Don't," Shouto said, voice rough. "This… you have to hear it. You can't jump into action right now. Listen. It's … it's not easy to say, or to hear." A lesson he'd had to learn, too. A hard one, that left him feeling raw every time, but in a good way, like seeing new skin appear from under a burn.

"Psychological abuse is harder to pick up on," he continued. "Something as simple as antisocial behavior can be an indicator that something is wrong. Abnormal development, especially in the area of social skills or emotional intelligence. Programmed statements or behaviors, uncharacteristic obedience or perfectionism, sleeping problems, speech impediments or low self-esteem… these are all indicators but they can have other causes, too." And if it felt like he was listing his own personality traits from when he'd entered UA, he'd finally come to terms with that, recently. Separating himself from what his father had made him was a painful process, but at least it was progressing.

Midoriya was sniffling now, but the fact that he hadn't simply reached out and grabbed Shouto's arm like he normally might have done was a sure sign that he was listening, and taking to heart what Shouto had to say.

Shouto took a pair of deep breaths before proceeding, painstakingly avoiding words that he knew would trigger unwanted emotions. "In any abuse case, especially with young children, the child may not recognize that something is wrong. It's just … business as usual for them, they don't know any different. They might not know how to ask for help, or that they _can_ even ask for help. There might be consequences for other people that have to be considered. Usually, it's not simple."

"She went with him so we wouldn't get hurt," Izuku said, eyes bright with realization and pain. "Chisaki was about to activate his Quirk, and Eri… went back to him. Even when I don't think she wanted to."

Shouto frowned, thinking it over before responding. "I respect that," he said finally. He didn't know the details of Eri's situation any more than Midoriya did, but Shouto knew better than anyone how abusers dragged down whole families with themselves. "It's what I would have done," he confessed quietly. "You never know what other people might be held under threat against your good behavior."

Midoriya was still caught up drawing connections with what he'd said earlier. "You used to go back. Every day, before the dorms," he said slowly. "She's sad, like you were."

Shouto's eyes flew to his friend's face, and he saw guilt written in the lines of it as Midoriya spoke. "I never noticed. I'm sorry. I didn't think … well…"

_That it could be that bad?_ Shouto's mind finished Midoriya's sentence for him. His forehead creased in distress; it wasn't Midoriya's fault. Shouto hadn't spelled out the details, and with Midoriya's upbringing in a loving household he would hardly be expected to deduce them for himself.

"Someone else did," Shouto reassured his friend. "It's okay."

"Are you safe, when you go back there?" There was a hardness behind Midoriya's voice again.

"Yes. I'm safe now. I really am, I'm not just saying that," Shouto added a small smile for Midoriya's sake, before sobering. "But this isn't about me right now."

His smiled dropped as he thought about what he had to say next. "You can rescue someone from a burning building by taking them out of it, or save them from a shipwreck. But you can't take a child away from its legal guardian without just cause. Like I said, these things are complicated. I know you don't want to hear this, but even though it might be possible to _rescue_ everyone, you can't _save_ everyone, Midoriya."

* * *

Izuku's first instinct was to utterly reject that statement: _you can't save everyone_. He wanted to become a hero so that he _could_ save everyone! That's what All Might did, that's what it meant to aspire to be a Symbol of Peace! But this wasn't the first time today he'd heard that; Togata's voice echoed in his head. _Can't save 'em all, but I can shoot for one million instead_. Sir Nighteye's accusation, followed with _you can't save whoever you want ,whenever you want._

Izuku quieted his knee-jerk reaction and decided to listen.

"There's a limit to what heroes can do, both physically and legally, and we have to accept that," Todoroki was saying. Izuku had heard that before in class of course, but it was something that UA students - and staff, too, sometimes - were good at ignoring, since the Plus Ultra mentality was all about going beyond. He swallowed back his response; this was a girl's life they were talking about, not some obstacle course race.

"If you suspect abuse, you're supposed to report it to the police. Then a social worker makes an investigation and action proceeds from there. As a hero, you can remove someone from the area if they ask for help or if they're unconscious or otherwise unable to give verbal consent and their life or physical safety is under immediate threat. When this person is a child, you also need the consent of their legal guardian if present. And that's the full extent of what we're legally allowed to do."

"That's bullshit!" Izuku burst out. "How can we be expected to just stand by and let a parent keep mistreating their child?"

"Look, I get what it sounds like," Todoroki sounded frustrated now, too, even though the words were spoken with his usual level tone. "But we're _not trained_ for this stuff. And even the simplest, and sometimes only, thing we can do - reporting to the police - might actually put someone in even more danger."

"What do you mean?" How could it possibly be a bad thing to get Eri away from her father if he frightened her so? Chisaki was a literal villain!

"Heroes get to save the day and go home. Children have years before they're allowed to take charge of their lives. Sure, you can get emancipated at fifteen but you still require a legal guardian until you're eighteen. That's a lifetime, for someone so young, so taking a child away from their guardian should never, ever be done lightly."

"Even if he hurts you?" Izuku asked, pointedly, hating himself a little for the blunt phrasing, but he wanted to understand. Todoroki said he was safe now, but Izuku knew he hadn't always been, and everything in Izuku wished he could go back in time and physically drag his friend away from his father.

Todoroki fixed him with a hard look, and his answer was just as blunt as the question. "Yes. Because if not me, then who? My _sister?_ People like that … it's a disease. There's never content with just one."

_Victim_, Izuku's mind filled in the missing word while noting his friend's strong avoidance of it. It _was_ complicated, Izuku realized. Not just because of the social stigma and Japanese pride in face. He didn't want to think about a world where helping would do more harm than good, yet it seemed like this was in fact the type of world he lived in.

"There could be any number of reasons that a social worker's case is declined, including non-nefarious ones," Todoroki chose to pick up their previous discussion thread in the carefully-selected phrasing Izuku would expect to find in a self-help article rather than from someone who'd experienced this firsthand. He recalled Chisaki's words: i_t's dangerous to make assumptions about what's normal for other people_. Todoroki must have read his mind based on the next thing he said. "For example, a reported situation could be an actual misunderstanding, if I were to play the devil's advocate."

"Is that what Endeavor's lawyer is called?" Izuku couldn't help asking bitterly.

Todoroki gave a small smile that would probably have been a laugh at any other time, and Izuku matched it with one of his own, before resuming their serious tone. "How are we supposed to make a difference as heroes if we're not allowed to act?"

"There's other kind of heroes for that," Todoroki answered kindly. "Social workers, people who run aid organizations, therapists, doctors, mental health specialists. Action is a process in this case, not a solitary event."

Izuku felt himself deflate. Todoroki was right; this wasn't what he wanted to hear. Vowing to be stronger, train harder, or fight smarter wouldn't fix anything for Eri. He couldn't fight her battles for her, even if he did rescue her in the end, just like he couldn't wrestle Todoroki's demons for him. That didn't mean he couldn't stand beside his friend and offer what support he could; he hadn't been there in the beginning, he hadn't _known_ because he hadn't _asked_, but Izuku would never make that mistake again. Healing would be a long process, after all, just like Todoroki had said.

"You know, some of our classmates say you're bad with words but you're really not," Izuku mused aloud.

"Yeah, I'm just bad with people," was the response, and Izuku smiled at the despairing tone that crept into the deadpan.

Eri's cry, _please don't leave_, was still echoing in Izuku's thoughts, and perhaps now it was combined with a selfish need for absolution, but he had to know, so he finally asked. "What was it like for you? Did you want to ask for help but you never could?"

* * *

In truth, he hadn't known, either that he'd needed help or that he'd wanted it. "I always wanted to be my own hero, but looking back, I should have asked," Shouto replied, slowly.

Yet help had come anyway, unexpected in the form of a Japanese hotline number handwritten next to its American counterpart on a printout of a webpage that held an English reading assignment about heroism and domestic violence in America. The vocabulary they'd learned that day had sat heavy in his mouth, the simple words combining together in terrible new meanings. He hadn't called, in the end, but the very presence of the black ink on his paper - and his alone, he'd peeked at Yaoyorozu's next to him - told him that someone had noticed, and wanted to help, and was offering him a chance. The very first sign of a viable way out in a fashion that rejection of his father's legacy was never going to accomplish.

It was a different sort of relief than it had been, sharing his story with Midoriya in an attempted psychological play that had, in retrospect, been driven more from a need for a connection of any kind. For all his strengths and abilities, Midoriya was safe because he was only a student who wasn't able to take action. Shouto hadn't been in a position to act either until they'd moved into the dorms and had a first taste if freedom to make even mundane decisions without dreading his father's brutal control. Eventually, the fear of going home for the weekend overrode his fear of repercussions, and he'd marched into Present Mic's office. When he was off the air, the teacher was a good listener and he'd been trained to deal with this kind of situation, during his time abroad, in a way that wasn't yet common in Japan. The next day they'd met with Aizawa and the principal to figure out a solution that had started out with an excuse for Shouto to stay on campus for the weekend and eventually led to therapy and neutralizing Endeavor's influence via the threat of a court case for legal emancipation. It was a keen insight from Principal Nezu, that the only thing Endeavor feared more than a media circus was the idea that his carefully bred and trained offspring wouldn't bear his name when he eventually took the number one spot. Shouto had felt so young that night, relief bursting out of him as tears in an empty dorm, as everything around him remained the same yet somehow life started anew under a yellow sky.

"I won't make that mistake again," Shouto swore. There were people around who cared about him, he knew that now. Teachers, and friends. _Family_.

"You can always ask me," Midoriya pledged, earnest. "Even if I'm not the best choice, and I've never been able help you with this before -"

"You already have," Shouto cut him off, surprised. Did he not know? Midoriya had been the first person to call him out to take ownership of his Quirk, his life, to determine his own destiny outside of the one that was written for him. He'd held Shouto accountable, too, through hundreds of challenges, encouragements, bright smiles, soft words and hard work.

"It takes more than one person to rescue someone from the cycle of abuse," Shouto explained. "Sometimes it's the small things that keep adding up. A smile at the right time. Little moments building trust. Knowing someone's watching out for you. Or someone could just break all their own bones to challenge you to take charge of your life."

He picked up Midoriya's damaged hand, examining it, marveling at the strength contained in the battered fingers. Shouto squeezed them tightly, trying to convey the depth of his gratitude through the pressure of his hand and strength of his gaze. "You were one of these people, for me. I know if anyone can be that for Eri, too, it's you, Midoriya."

* * *

**A/N:** I'm a casual anime-only fan and I'm always quietly disgusted by how extra everything is and how they write women in 2k19, but the fan-created content is real nice. Unfortunately I couldn't find this fic so I had to write it … but seriously if you know of a work like this please give me a link I need it like two days ago.

I am neither a therapist nor a social worker, so this is based off of general mindfulness principles and Google searches. Y'all don't want to see my browser history right now. *sneaks back to main fandom*

For those of you caught up in the storm - you can be your own hero. But you don't have to be. X


End file.
